The hut was extremely simple, with just a table and a bed and that was all.
Yet it exuded a touch of understated elegance.
The bedding was clean and tidy, kept just as it had been thousands of years ago. On the desk were the four treasures of the study, as well as rice paper held down by a paperweight.
As if the owner had just stepped out.
Everything here was all too familiar, even though Ji Feixue had hatched from her shell when Ji Tianchen had already lost his senses, wandering who knows where. But in her heart, her father was always the man her mother spoke of, that gentle and scholarly man full of wisdom.
This was where he read and studied.
